Five 6word phrases McCoy used
by Captain-Beatty
Summary: Plus one he needed to hear. Higher rating due to language. Other than that, warm fuzzies all the way.


**5 6-Word Phrases McCoy Used**

**...And one he needed to hear**

So, welcome back to the madness that is Captain Beatty. [boos and hisses from the background] I know, I know, I'm horrible. But life happens, y'know? Between changing jobs and getting an apartment, I've been all over the place recently. [cue crickets] Not impressed yet? **sweat drop** Well, onto the story then! Rating for swearing (Bones, people, this is Bones we're talking about)

This was partially inspired by the many "5 time" fics that seem to run rampant over this genre. Probably been sited in other genres too, but at the moment...

DISCLAIMER: I hold no claim over Star Trek, Karl Urban, or any of the associated characters. But if I did...No, even I'm not cruel enough to release that onto unsuspecting fans.

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1-Jim

When you become roommates, you pick up on each other's habits. For instance, McCoy would tell anyone that was willing to listen that Kirk was an unorganized, sprawling, lecherous man-whore but knew exactly the chemical amounts and reactions of each individual item in their room. Kirk, on the other hand, would swear up and down that McCoy was a grouchy, sarcastic neat freak that cared _way_ too much about putting things back in their place but he's the best doctor in the whole damn fleet. McCoy would complain that Jim was allergic to practically everything, but also said that he wanted no other man against his back when times were tough. Jim never stopped complaining that whenever McCoy drank a lot or was tired from a long day at the infirmary his Southern became almost indecipherable. He also boasted that McCoy was the only one he trusted to patch him up after every bad encounter, because Bones was the only one that would do it right.

When you become this knowledgeable about their habits, you also notice what days the other will drink, or at least drink more in some cases. Jim drank at least 5 nights of 7, while Leonard drank the other 2. On his birthday, Christmas, and certain other birthdays, Jim wanted to do nothing more than get so wasted he couldn't remember it the day after. On his wedding anniversary, his divorce anniversary, Father's Day, and one day in September, Leonard wouldn't get trashed but he would come close. On any of these days, the roommate was there to make sure the other one got home okay.

It was one of these days in September that Jim found out why Bones drank on this date.

"Bones, you can't be serious! You're, like, ancient compared to the rest of us." His roomie glared at him. "Ancient? Right. All that means is I've had time to build up tolerance."

The cadets that were with them cheered. They both had a few under their belt already, but it didn't look like they were going to be stopping anytime soon. The cadets had finally pushed Leonard over the edge-they said no man twice their age could drink even half as much as they could. McCoy's answer had been a growled "Wanna bet? And I'm only twice the age of _some_ of you." With this in mind, the cadets started the betting pool and calling for drinks from the bartender.

Quite a few hours later, Jim and Leonard staggered drunkenly back into their room. When the cadet's money ran out, so did the drinks. It was a sad evening for the crowd, since neither had been declared the winner. Of course, this ended up annoying Jim and angering him. In turn, McCoy had gotten even more belligerent than normal. Overall, it was not a good situation. The only reason they hadn't killed each other on the way back was because the driver had threatened to throw both of them in front of the Admiral's office.

Finishing whatever pointless argument they were having, Jim slurred "What is eating you, man? I know you're a hard-ass, but even more than normal! And I thought you were divorced in July! This is September, for Crissake!"

"Remember how I said she took the whole damn planet?" Jim nodded, then felt the rest of his anger dissipate when he saw the sudden moistness in the doctor's eyes. Bones _never_ cried. Ever. And he looked like he was going to now.

"She took my daughter too, Jim."

2-Joanna 

He doesn't remember when they started this routine. It was long before he was served papers. Leonard thinks it was around the time Jo started being able to talk, and asking questions that all children do. When she asked why the sky was blue, he would pick her up and twirl her around, making her scream with joy. Then he would tell her that the sky wasn't blue, but her face was from laughing too much. She'd laugh again and ask to be picked up, so she could be "more blue, bluer than the sky!"

The start of this routine though, he remembers. It was one of those glorious Georgian days that old novels and even PADDs still wrote about. Warm, but cooled by a breeze that smelled of orange blossoms, lilacs, and easiness. Joanna had inherited his love of peaches, and they were both munching on one while enjoying the view afforded by their Restoration patio. She had stopped to look at him, and asked "Do you love me, daddy?"

He blinked, and put down the peach he was about to bite into. "Of course I do, Joanna. What makes you think I don't?"

She started swinging her legs from the chair. "Someone at school said, said that only mommies and daddies who are always there love you."

He frowned, then reached over to gently grasp one of her hands. "Joanna, that's not right. Mama and daddy love you. And we're not always here, but all of us still go out together, remember?"

She nodded, unsure. McCoy sighed, then pulled her slightly so she would get off the chair and stand in front of him. Looking at her juice-stained face, he smiled. "Baby girl, we can't always be here, but we'll always love you. Don't believe that person who said that, okay?"

Joanna nodded, then gave him _that_ smile, the one that would have boys chasing her left and right when she was older. "Okay daddy. But how much do you love me?"

Pulling her close and hugging her, he whispered "More than all the peaches in Georgia."

Giggling and returning his hug tenfold, she asked if that made her a special peach. He laughed again, and said she was his own Annie-peach. The name has stuck ever since. He found it touching when the teachers informed him that she refused to be called 'Annie.' 'Jo,' was fine, or 'Ann,' or her given name. Jocelyn had mentioned the same thing. Apparently his ex-wife had overheard Joanna tell one of her friends that only her daddy could call her Annie.

Once on board the _Enterprise_, the medical staff and a select few outside that department knew that McCoy was divorced. Of those, even fewer knew he had a daughter.

Nyota buzzed him from the bridge. "Doctor McCoy? You've got a transmission coming in for you. From the East Coast. Would you like it in your quarters, sir?"

Nodding, McCoy silently praised Nyota again for her discretion as he finished up his tasks for the day. He'd come in later to make up the time. The first time he got a transmission from his daughter, Nyota didn't question when he asked if she could send it to his personal quarters. However, when they happened to meet on the observation deck later that day, she cornered him about it. Prepared, he gave her the short summary: "She's my daughter, Nyota. The only time she can call is when her mama comes down from her throne to tend to the needs of us mere mortals." There were no other questions after that, but any following transmissions from the coast were forwarded directly to McCoy's quarters.

After the latest gossip on the arts and crafts project she was working on, he was informed via the computer he had only 2 minutes left. He said his goodbyes, made what promises he could reasonably keep, and said that he loved her more the all of the peaches in Georgia. She giggled, and kept to their ritual. "Why do you love me more than all the peaches, daddy?"

"You'll always be my Annie-peach."

3-Pavel

Bones was convinced that whatever magical...whatever followed Jim around and in turn made others follow him had a personal vendetta against away missions. He could count on 10 digits the amount of missions that had gone well. Which was just about half of the missions they had done so far. 'Strike that, less than half,' McCoy grumbled in his thoughts.

After seeing to the Captain, and the First Officer, and the more heavily wounded security personnel, Leonard was finally able to get to Chekhov. The nurses, blessed souls that they were, had patched up most of it but he still preferred to check over his friends himself. That, and he wanted to check how the new doctor was holding up after she got out of surgery. Amazingly enough, they were understaffed again so he wanted to hold onto what doctors he could.

"Hey there, kid. How's the arms holding up?"

Pavel groaned. McCoy had refused to let the nurses completely set his arms. They had been broken when the aliens snapped them behind his back. As it was, they were facing the right away again but were still in a cast.

"Vhy, Doctor? Is there a reason I can't return to my station tomorrow? Vhich I _should_ have been able to?"

"Call me a vindictive bastard. Besides, you can only use that so many times. Sometimes it's better to heal naturally." At Chekhov's glare, McCoy raised an eyebrow. "That way the bones don't forget to heal themselves. You've got a long history of broken arms."

Pavel was silent. Of course, he was the CMO. He had access to the confidential medical files. That didn't make the young man any happier about it. "Vhat about it?"

"That's a conversation for another time. Mind you, it will happen." Leonard wasn't an idiot. No kid-not even Jim-was clumsy enough to land in the hospital almost every week for a good six, seven years of his life. There was something else there, but this wasn't the time to talk about it.

Chekhov glared again. "No it won't," he muttered, turning away.

McCoy rechecked the dials, and glanced around the clearing Medical Bay. "Yes it will. But not right now. Although," Leonard paused, letting Pavel turn his face to him again, "I hear you're the main reason why there are so many alive. Good reflexes?"

The navigator's face burned. "Nyet. Any one would have done the same thing."

McCoy looked at him a moment longer before spotting the other doctor leaving the operating room. She looked pale. Shaking his head, McCoy sighed at the debriefing he was going to have to go through with her later. Turning his attention back to Chekhov, he continued. "I don't think you've got the right idea. The fact that you **did** manage to save your crewmate's lives isn't something to be modest about."

"Doctor, I am only as brave as my commanding officer. And I am going to be part of the main security team! I have to risk myself for others."

McCoy sighed again, then lightly ruffled Chekhov's hair. "They've got nothing on you, kid."

4-Spock

McCoy was getting fairly tired of patching up the same two officers over and over again. Jim's insistence that the First Officer accompany him on most diplomatic missions was only partially for Spock's knowledge and diplomatic skill. The other reason, McCoy was sure, was just to piss off the CMO.

"Dammit Jim, what did you do now?"

"Nothing!" Jim answered quickly. "Just...maybe slept with someone I shouldn't have, that's all. Or was it not eating the offering?" Jim knew the signs that indicated his friend was working well beyond exhaustion. His drawl had thickened to the point where it was dripping from his words, he looked like shit, and his face had started suffering from spasms (in Jim's opinion).

McCoy felt his face twitch. "Well, that's a hard one to comprehend, Jim."

"I was allergic to it! I got hives and rashes whenever I got next to it! I wasn't gonna _eat_ the damn thing!"

"When has that stopped you before?" Before Jim could answer, McCoy jabbed a hypo in his neck. "Dammit Bones! I hate those!"

"I know, which is why you'll be getting another one as soon as you wake up."

"Wake up? Bones, wha-?" but Jim passed out before he could finish. Grumbling under his breath at the unconscious captain, McCoy finished his work. Calling Christine over, he told her to set the alarm to wake Jim up in 10 hours. He wasn't sure how well this new formula worked, and he wanted to make sure it didn't kill someone if they didn't wake up on time. Especially since that someone was the captain.

It had been a long shift. Besides the newest failure at diplomacy, the med staff had been around the clock to counteract a contagion that had made its way on board. Which happened after some idiot had done things _incorrectly _to Scotty's directions, and had taken out a deck and a half. Even Christine looked like hell, and McCoy said as much. Her response was that if _she_ looked like hell, then he looked like hell's overlord. He had ordered everyone off except a skeleton crew. He wasn't even supposed to be on it, but that damn mission meant he had to stay up. They didn't mention in his classes at the academy that 18 hour shifts in the ER were a cakewalk compared to some of the shifts they might get once they were in space. Sighing, he meandered to one of the isolation units that housed the First Officer.

They _had_ to put Spock in an Iso unit. He was still under whatever crazy Vulcan voodoo trance they put themselves into when they were healing themselves, but looked to be coming out of it. McCoy had also figured out a long time ago that things generally went smoother for everyone if Spock was kept in Iso. Not that he would ever tell Spock that, of course.

Seeing that Spock was awake, he tapped in the code and let himself in. "Doing better?"

"Better is a relative term, Dr. McCoy. And a highly illogical one, at that. Better than a corpse? Yes. Better than a plant? It depends on the-"

"Oh shut up," McCoy ground out. "Not awake even 5 minutes, and you still irritate the hell out of me."

"I fail to see how that would be possible. Are there hells in humans? Or are you talking metaphorically, such as Dante's-"

"I said shut up." Spock promptly closed his mouth. His eyebrow, however, reached his hairline. McCoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I heard that you made sure Jim got away with as little harm to himself as possible. I know it's your job and all, but thank you."

Spock blinked. "Doctor, I believe that is the first time you have ever thanked me for anything."

"Spock, will you turn off that hardwired brain of yours for just a minute!" McCoy sighed again and took a deep breath. Leonard knew he shouldn't even be standing, but some things had to be said before the next crazy-ass mission their captain dragged them into. "Listen up, Spock. I'm only gonna say this once, and I won't ever repeat it again.

This caught the First Officer's attention, as he knew it would. "Being logical all the time makes you nothing but an easy target. You're half human, so learn to deal with it. I think there are times that even though those emotions of yours are screaming to get out, you ignore them so you can remain _logical_, remain _in control_. But what's the point of being in control all the time if you lose something that you can't replace?"

Spock opened his mouth to speak, but McCoy stopped him by raising a hand in the air. "Let me finish. Despite this, and despite the fact that I still think you're a pointy-eared hobgoblin with no sense for delicacy when it comes to people or social situations, you're an absolutely brilliant Science Officer. You're a good First Officer, from what I've heard, and Jim trusts you." He let the words sink in for a moment. "Coming from Jim, that's quite a compliment. I may not ever get along with you, but I will trust you. He's got more trust issues than I do."

Silence. "Doctor McCoy, that is...quite an admission."

The CMO raised an eyebrow. "And more words than I've ever strung together in front of you. I know. However, I will never repeat any of it, and I will never admit it to the crew if you say anything. Even to Jim or Nyota. I will claim temporary insanity under extreme duress and exhaustion. Are we clear, Mister Spock?"

There it was. A slight twitch at the corners of the mouth. On any human, that was generally the beginnings of a smile. On the mixed blood Commander, it was a very small crack. "Very clear, Doctor McCoy. I believe I will return to my station, then. Assuming I have been cleared for general duty?"

McCoy nodded, typing in the code to release them from the unit. Luckily, the skeleton crew were taking care of their other tasks, so there was no one to stop and ask what had happened. Since the CMO's office and the entrance to sickbay were next to each other, McCoy ended up walking Spock out after stopping to check on the captain. Before the door opened though, Spock paused just outside of the office. "Doctor, I will keep your words of advice in mind. And-" here Spock hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words. McCoy waited, tapping his fingers impatiently on his arm. Sighing, Spock let his arm graze Leonard's before opening the door. With a jolt, the doctor sensed the currents of...was that gratitude? Understanding? Both? "And I expect you will be better rested when next we talk?"

Letting the scowl soften just a little bit, McCoy nodded again. Walking into his office, McCoy muttered "You're still a pointy-eared hobgoblin."

5-Scotty

Needless to say, it had been a bad idea. The drinking tolerance of both the Chief Engineer and the Chief Medical Officer aboard the _Enterprise_ had become almost legendary among the crew. Not to say their captain couldn't hold his own, but even he was dwarfed by the Scotsman and the Southerner.

However, it was almost a ritual at this point. Some new recruit, or alien cadet, or sometimes even one of the brass would challenge the crew members to a drinking contest. If it was teams, it was usually Kirk, McCoy, and Scotty. If someone complained that it was all men, then Kirk would ask Chapel or Uhura to participate, depending on who he had annoyed more within the past couple months. It was during one of these contests that Sulu had made a side bet on who could drink more, the Communications Officer or the Head Nurse. To this day, he refuses to tell the women who had better odds.

It was a planet that had recently asked to join Star Fleet. They found out (after the initial landing, of course) that a drinking contest was considered a show of good faith in this culture. Their host, who answered only to the Leader of Alien Research and Development [Diplomat Lard, Jim sniggered to Scotty and McCoy later], explained that it was normally done in teams of four, with two women and two men.

Jim, who was suffering with whatever allergies he had gotten on this planet, immediately chose his standbys. After contacting Uhura with the information and ignoring the pointed glares she threw at him, he explained who would be beaming down to his guide, El'Eaon. Like the rest of his race, El'Eaon had a beaming face that seemed eternally encased in baby fat. "Wonderful!" the translator squeaked. "It will be a wonderful contest!"

When the rest of the party beamed down, they were all formality and courtesy to their host. As soon as any of them were alone with the captain though, it was a different tone altogether.

"Dammit Jim! I was supposed to receive a transmission from Joanna!"

"Aye, Captain, is this a good idea? I know th' doctor an' I are good fer these sorta things, but don't ye want to participate yerself?"

"Captain, was I really needed? In case you've forgotten, there is exactly one Head Nurse and one Chief Medical Office on board, who also happens to be the only doctor on board until we get some new ones because the others have died."

"Why did you bring me down? You don't need me for a drinking contest, of all things!."

Jim rolled his eyes for the...well, he had stopped counting. "For the last time, they want teams of four. Two men, two women. That means all of you." When there were no other remarks forthcoming, he sighed. "Look, I had to make it an order, okay? Whatever spice they put on their-I dunno, vegetables?-made me itch everywhere. So, I'm not supposed to drink."

"Since when?" the CMO muttered. "Doctor's orders," Jim answered sweetly. Before the bickering could continue, El'Eaon returned, clapping his hands and smiling. "I have made arrangements! You are to come in now? And we drink?"

A few hours later, Jim was glad he didn't participate. Although he would never say it out loud, he was fairly certain he would have lost against any one of the females of El'Eaon's race in his current condition. He knew Nyota could hold her own, but she just barely won. Then it was Christine's turn, and she also won, but not by much more than Nyota. As they wobbled out of the bar to beam up, Jim wasn't certain which one was holding the other up.

At that point, the bar had emptied of one crowd and a completely different one had come in. Leaning over, Scotty talked to McCoy in a low voice. "It seems like we're th' main attraction."

McCoy snorted. "If I'm right, I think women here are similar to Old-Earth women during the 1870s, maybe 1880s. They're allowed to do a little bit more, and they're allowed to drink, but it's still a man's culture. I think."

Scotty nodded, knowing that the doctor's observation was probably correct. It was one of the worst kept secrets on board that McCoy was highly intuitive. For the most part, he wrote it off as a medical necessity but Scotty knew enough textbook psychology to know that some of it was acquired from professors. He's not the only one who went to the CMO when he needed some advice or a listening ear.

El'Eaon had come over. "You are ready? The women, they do not have the stomach men do." After sitting at the table, he beamed in their general direction.

Scotty grumbled, and had a final exchange with the doctor before he went to sit down. "Oh? Is that what 'e thinks? 'E must not have been watching the same contest I was, then. Chapel and Uhura were matching them mug for mug. I was starting to feel queasy just by looking at 'em."

McCoy nodded thoughtfully. "That's because_ our _women kick ass."

+1-Jim

McCoy sighed, ending the transmission from Joanna. She had wanted to know when he could come to her school for Father's Day again. He was able to last year, and he had been hoping to this year, but anything that could happen in space, generally did. "At least as far as my luck's concerned," Bones grumbled. The buzzer chimed. Sighing again, he bade whoever was at his door to enter.

"Hiya Bones!" Jim said brightly. He glanced quickly at the forbidding face of the doctor. "Were you able to talk to Joanna?"

Leonard's features melted into a slight, oh so slight smile. "Yeah. She said she's got my gift waiting for me next time I'm on leave."

"How's she doing?"

The older man shrugged. "Fine. As fine as a six year old can be without her dad around." Looking at Jim, he raised an eyebrow. "You know all about that though. Didn't mean anything by it."

"Not this time, right?" Kirk asked cheekily. "Anyway, I was wondering if you had eaten yet."

Scowling again, McCoy shuddered. "No. But I wasn't going to get anything right now. I heard rumors that the girls were trying to get a party together for all the daddies on board."

"And you don't want to be there because...?"

"I don't like parties. You know that," Bones stated flatly.

"Not diplomatic ones, no. Or formal ones. Or ceremonies. But you've never said anything about informal ones. Or drinking parties." Jim pointed out. "Besides, it's just some of the crew."

"The crew doesn't need to know I have a daughter, Jim." To this, he added quietly that the ones that he would have wanted to know already did.

Kirk felt a warming presence at the bottom of his chest. Normally he wouldn't linger in it. He's accept it, return the compliment, and move on. But this was a special day. Although he never quite figured out if he and Bones treated each other more like father and son or big brother and little brother, he was okay with that. "Come on Bones, just a quick break. Then I'll let you go back to whatever it is you're doing."

"Alright. That pointy-eared hobgoblin wanted those samples pretty bad, but he can wait."

Jim stared uncomprehendingly at his friend. "You were doing something for Spock? You _have_ to be upset, then."

Leonard narrowed his eyes. "Don't even go there, kid. I'd rather work than worry about what day it is." Knowing this was true, Jim dropped the subject. Although they didn't get as roaring drunk as they used to on this day, Bones normally didn't stop at just a nightcap either. Groaning as he stood up, Leonard felt the pops along his spine. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

"Oh come on, you're not that old!"

"Older 'n you. That makes me old." They continued the familiar argument into the mess hall, which was tastefully decorated in blues and whites. Bones cringed at the sight of so many people, but Jim kept pushing him toward the back where the rest of the synthesizers were. It was a sign of how distracted Leonard was that he didn't notice the extra barrier until they were running into it. "Jim? What's this for?"

"You'll find out," the captain answered with a glint in his eye.

"Jim," Bones growled, "If this is another bright idea of yours, I swear you-" but the rest of his threat was cut off by a loud chorus. The older man blinked, still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. "Happy Father's Day...Papa Bones?"

"That's right," Nyota beamed, swooping in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Now he was _really_ confused. The Communications Officer wasn't one for public affection.

"Are you feeling alright, Uhura?" She laughed, and gave him a hug, keeping her arms around his waist. "I'm fine. Are you caught up, or do you want me to explain it to you?" she asked, waving a hand around while moving to one side.

Finding he still couldn't do much more than blink, he nodded slightly. "Explain. Please." Christine giggled, and stepped forward to his other side, which Jim Kirk had recently vacated. "Well, despite how grouchy you are-"

"And malicious you can be," chimed in Jim.

"We decided that since you couldn't have your little girl with you, we would give you our own Father's Day celebration."

Looking around at the collective faces of the girls, Chekov, Sulu, Scotty, and Jim, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "But...I'm not...you're my..."

"I understand, Dr. McCoy," Spock interrupted, coming in from behind him. "I do not understand the logic of it either. But," up went the eyebrow, "despite my own father still being alive, I too have touched upon some of this sense of kinship."

This was more than Leonard could handle. "Even the god-damned hobgoblin is part of this? No, no, you're wrong. I'm going back to my office and-"

This time, it was Jim who stopped him. "No. You will stay here, and accept that this is for you, and you are going to enjoy yourself. Do I make myself clear, CMO?"

Dammit, Jim was enjoying this too much! "Captain," he said through clenched teeth, "I am not the biological father to any of you. And this," here he faltered. Was it so bad, really? "I'm not a very good daddy, either," he finished softly.

There it was. The million-credit Kirk smile. "You're a better one than some of us have ever had, Bones. I'm not the only one who's said that."

Looking around, McCoy felt his heart leap into his throat. Scuffling his feet, he tried one more time. More out of habit than any real need to say it was a bad idea. "Jim, I'm not...I _can't _be a daddy to everyone. Daddies don't-don't make their little girls cry on Father's Day."

Jim shook his head. "No, they shouldn't. But there's something you're forgetting." Stepping forward, Jim smiled. "You'll always be _our_ papa, Bones."

* * *

Hmm. *looks at it sideways.* Hhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmm. *looks at it upside down* Mmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm. *back to normal* Well, except for that last one, I think they were almost in character. Emphasis on the _almost_ part. The last one I KNOW they were OOC. But...that's why it's fanfiction, right? Anyway, hope I didn't break your brain while you were reading this. That would make me sad. Really, it would! 'Cuz then you wouldn't be able to tell me how you felt about it! :D


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